


The Devil’s Serenade

by Eli_Emu, QueenOfPentalcles (Eli_Emu)



Series: Borderlands Blues [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Dark Jack, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Holo Jack - Freeform, I wrote porn, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Porn, Public Sex, Tales From the Borderlands, WTF, and Ive never published porn, hologram, i think, yeah some dub con elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 03:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eli_Emu/pseuds/Eli_Emu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eli_Emu/pseuds/QueenOfPentalcles
Summary: Rhys can't this ghost out of his head. He's more trouble than he's worth, but sometimes, hell, sometimes it's almost worth it.





	The Devil’s Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a drabble for a story I might or might not write. I mean, -technically- this is tied to my previous story, but, whatever.  
> Also: Rhys has one arm, but still has the echo eye. Timothy found Rhys dying in a desert after the Helios crash and they are at the Atlas facility trying to build Rhys a new arm.

Rhys could feel the electricity fizzle like fire throughout his cybernetics. He glanced furtively at Timothy, but the courier’s back was to him, counting up provisions or ammo or something and chatting idly to the Digi-Jack by his side. Any other time, Rhys might-okay, _would_ \- have taken time to admire the breadth of his shoulders, the tan of his neck, the confidence of his broad hands. As it is, it’s all Rhys can do to stop his hand from trembling.

  “Rhysie.”

Rhys tried not to respond, tried to keep from flinching, but he can’t stop the aborted instinct fully, and just a twitch of movement is all the blue psychopath needs.

“Trying to ignore me, kiddo?” Rhys squeezed his eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop the ghost of electricity sparking at his hips, at his _ear_. “You _know_ you can’t get rid of Handsome fucking _Jack_ that easily, Rhysie.”

 _Fuck_! Rhys gripped the edge of the console, trying not to let the hologram’s words get to him. He makes more of an effort with Timothy a half a dozen steps away, more than he gave back at the beginning when he lapped up Jack’s praises like honey, more than he did slowly dying in that fucking desert, Jack’s anger and betrayal and rage cutting through him like a knife.

“What’s a guy gotta do to get some _attention_ around here, huh?” Shit, he’s always harder to ignore when he’s in a playful mood. Not a good mood, _never_ a good mood; Rhys knew better now. What’s Rhys to do though, when ignoring him will make him rage, but playing along would just be an invitation to get himself hurt?

“ _Rhysie._ ” Jack’s voice dropped a heated octave, right next to his ear and for once his voice isn’t filled with something dangerous. Rhys had to bite back on a groan. “C’mon, kitten, Daddy wants a _show_.” That faint electric sensation pressed against his ass for a prolonged heartbeat, the tingling at his hips growing stronger. An image of Jack rutting against him flashed through Rhys’ mind like lightning, just like that bastard intended, and Rhys bit his lip so hard he tasted copper, unable to stop his hips from twitching.

Jack chuckled, low and dark, and Rhys knew he lost, knew he’d palming himself through his slacks, moaning for Jack like the whore Jack knows he is. “Wouldn’t you like that, Rhysie? Don’t you wanna show me how nice and _wet_ you get for me? A cock as pretty as yours needs to be _admired_.” Rhys’ eyes fluttered open at the faint sensation cupping his straining dick, not quite managing to hide a small, breathy noise at the sight of that large blue hand feeling him up. Fuck, he was glad Timothy was distracted; very few things got passed the “courier, not mercenary.”

“Or maybe you want something a bit _sweeter_.” This...this was new and new was always a dangerous sign when it came to the hologram. “You know,” and the tone was almost conversational, an electric hand trailing up Rhys’ torso. “I never did get a chance to wreak Tim’s sweet ass before the fucker betrayed me.” Jack hummed and Rhys…Rhys could picture it; all of that muscle and tan skin and thoroughly debauched hair, the only difference the freckles on one and the mask on the other. “Bet he’d just spread those legs like he’d been gagging for it, like he was just moments from getting on his hands and knees and _begging_.” Rhys’ hand flew to his groin, wanting some relief, but waiting for Jack, always waiting for Jack, to tell him to touch himself or touch _Timothy_ or just finger himself until he came from Jack’s words alone. “Wouldn’t you like that, Rhysie? Have him writhing under you, moaning himself hoarse?” Rhys whimpered. “Or would you like his cock in your mouth, huh?” Jack chucked at Rhys’ needy noise. “It’s just like mine you know. Had him made that way. Ooooh, “ Jack moaned, like he was getting off on it too. “You’re not gonna be able to get that out of your head. Gonna dream of your lips around his cock and wake with my name-“

“Rhys?” A hand touched Rhys’ shoulder and he jumped, eyes wide as Timothy’s mismatched eyes stared concernedly down at him. “Are you alright? Is it-”. Rhys could feel Jack’s presence dissipating with a frustrated growl. And Timothy’s eyes flicked down farther. His eye’s snapped back to Rhys’, face scarlet and whatever he was trying to say came out as a strangled noise.

The mortification wasn’t enough to stop Rhys’ erection and the door barely closed behind Rhys as he fled before he shoved a hand down his pants. It was quick and messy and while Rhys didn’t consider himself old, he thought he was well past the coming-in-his-pants stage.

Rhys let his head fall back against the cool wall. Half of him whished it wasn’t so goddamned satisfying, that his best fucks weren’t from a guy who couldn’t even touch him. Most of all, Rhys hated how he couldn’t completely hate Jack. God, the asshole deserved it, treated him like garbage more often than not, but Rhys was a weak, weak man. And Rhys was probably stuck with Jack for the rest of his life.     

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah, never published me some porn (i would say this is about the second one I'm happy with). so, uh, happy birthday?


End file.
